The Story of a Successful Creation
by Cececat
Summary: [Cover pics borrowed from various movies] During WWII, a descendant of the infamous Victor Frankenstein manages to build a proper creation. That's a sweet little girl named Mina who's raised by her creator and a crippled lab assistant. This is the story of Mina trying to survive high school in the 1950s while still staying true to her 'family'. (Please Read and Review!)


**Disclaimer: I don't own the 1930s Universal films but I do own this story.**

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 **A/N: This is like a bizarre combination of _Young Frankenstein_ and the more traditional movies with Karloff. I wrote the first few chapters a while ago but never posted them for some reason. Probably because I was afraid it wasn't enough like the movies or to mention there's a character inspired by someone from another _Frankenstein_ adaption I've written so much about.  
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 **Anyway, I hope people enjoy this!**

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There's a dreadful thing called school that I, Miss Mina Victoria Frankenstein, hate to think about. So this story will involve as few descriptions of the fiendish place. It'll _start_ just after an ordinary school day.

"Dad!" I called, the moment I got home from school.

He appeared right next to me right away. That's a... thing he does. I never bother to ask why.

"How was school, kiddo?"

"Like always, Dad. Every kid envies me cause I can listen to rock n roll without you getting angry. Good thing I'm too sensible to ride a motorcycle."

Almost to my annoyance, he caught the sarcasm. "The kids made fun of you, didn't they?"

"Obviously. They think it's weird that I can do whatever the hell I feel like..."

"... that your mother is considered a deranged recluse, your father is a hunchbacked 'coward' who didn't fight in the war, and that nobody knew you existed until you were three," he finished.

"It's better than knowing I actually didn't exist before age three," I replied bitterly.

Dad gave me a pitying look... Which made me feel worse.

It wasn't I who'd been shunned for their looks. He'd never had a family or even a friend until Mom hired him as an assistant. It saddens me that the kindest person I know was ignored and even hated for most of his life. I felt like a brat, acting like my tendency to argue wasn't something I'd caused myself.

"Do you want snack? I made chocolate chip cookies, since the first day of a new school year is a special occasion."

This cheered me up quite a bit. Since Mom almost never leaves her laboratory, Dad does pretty much everything around the house. Which meant he knew how much I love chocolate chip cookies.

"Definitely," I said, following him into the kitchen.

The kitchen was, as always, a mess. There's always cookbooks and nonperishables scattered around the room. As a part time scientist, Dad should (and probably does) know how to keep food from being dangerously unsanitary. It must be, because none of us have ever gotten sick or anything. Yet the room is extremely messy.

Not that it really matters. If I didn't have to carefully avoid stepping on something that wasn't the floor every step, it wouldn't be home.

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The next day I walked to school. Most kids do.

Like most days in the late summer, it was annoyingly sunny. Mom hates that sort of weather. It makes no sense in my opinion. I guess Mom just hates everything outside her Laboratory.

As usual, I got weird looks as I walked. Mom really likes victorian era stuff, so I look like something out of one of those novels. Dark hair, creepy-pale skin, and a figure that Empress Elisabeth of Austria would envy.

At least it means I don't need to wear a girdle.

Most adults in town know more than the kids when it comes to my family. They don't talk about us, you see. So most other kids don't really know why I'm the weird one. I just am.

It's better than them knowing I'm actually the result of a famous scientist's great-granddaughter finding some old notes in the attic. I'm also glad that they think that my 'parents' are a married couple... Not a Scientist-of-Debatable-Sanity (that's what I call her when I'm annoyed at her) and her assistant.

I still dress like other girls, of course. But I only truly look good in 19th century mourning stuff. That's what Mom always wears. There is a reason she named me after a Protagonist from Bram Stoker's _Dracula._

As I sat down in my first class, history, I noticed a new face.

A guy. A standard James Dean wannabe with a leather jacket. Messy dark brown hair, brown eyes, and a smirk.

Oh dear…

While I waited for the bell to ring, I began to wonder whether he knew about my family. He appeared to be new to town. I was so focused on that that I almost didn't here the teacher call my name.

"Frankenstein, Mina?"

"Here."

A few people giggled. Like always.

I went back to thinking about how much he knew. Maybe his parents hadn't said anything, yet. They're probably a bit disorganized, letting their son show up a day late.

"Stark, Mar-"

"It's Eddie, ya know," the boy replied.

The teacher gave him a Look, then continued calling role.

I wondered what his real name was. Probably not as bad as 'Frankenstein'. Mom was shunned by society during the war for having a German name. Not that she noticed...

When class actually began, I didn't pay attention as well as usual. I couldn't stop thinking about Eddie and how he might not know about my strange family.

For once I was glad the teachers never pay attention to me.

When the class ended, I wanted to talk to him. Ask him if he knew who I was. But I knew I'd be late to my next class if I did.

The next few classes I spent daydreaming about talking to a person who didn't know about my family. Teachers make a point of ignoring me, so it didn't matter.

By the time lunch came along I'd decided to talk to him then. I usually sat in the hallway outside that room to eat.

If I don't want people to notice me, they don't. That's one of my 'little talents' as Dad jokingly says. Though the not-noticing-me thing only works if I'm standing still anyway. I actually hung out in the neighbor's garden shed for almost a week before they noticed anything.

That's another thing, I only have to eat every week or so. That means I get to spend most of lunch reading.

But going into the lunchroom would be odd.

After a moment of hesitation, I walked through the double doors. It only took a minute to spot Eddie. He sat next to a girl who looked quite like him. Probably his sister. I noticed a nearby table that was empty down. Eavesdropping is easy from this close up.

She was ranting in a whiny voice. "-you know that Mother is already stressed enough with all the unpacking. So please don't get caught up in any trouble. You remember what happened-"

He cut her off. "Stop it, Jamie. Skipping a day isn't that bad."

"It is!"

After that, the two went back to eating in silence. I began to wonder what it would be like to have siblings. Dad once said that making me used up much of the family fortune. The equipment was all quite expensive, apparently. Especially since they wanted me to be a lot more specific than Great-Great Granddaddy's creature.

I'd often wondered what the Old Creature looked like. Dad only knows what he's read in the notes Great-Great Granddaddy wrote. That just talks about the mental capabilities of the Old Creature. It always saddened me that he didn't have a name. Apparently he didn't live for very long.

"What are you doing?" shrieked a voice.

I realized that I was still staring at Eddie and his sister. Apparently she'd just noticed.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Mina Frankenstein is your name, isn't it?" Eddie said, interrupting me.

"Yes," I replied, trying to smile.

He smiled back. "This girl here's my little sister Jamie."

Being referred to as 'little sister' made Jamie scowl unbecomingly. At least neither of them had reacted negatively to my name. But what was I supposed to say now?

Mercifully, the bell rang at that very moment.

"Goodbye, Mina," Eddie called as I ran off into the mad crowds of students.

As I made my way down the hallway, I realized I was smiling. What about a silly James Dean wannabe could make me smile? Was it that smile, or... No. I wasn't going to think like that. I'm too smart. Too smart to think like that.

I could hardly focus on my studies as the day went on.

When I saw my reflection in a classroom's window, I noticed that I was still smiling. No matter what I did it wouldn't go away!

While walking home I noticed my feet weren't currently listening to my brain. Skipping wasn't something I usually did. Being in a cheerful mood is usually not even enough to make me smile slightly. Grinning like an idiot isn't what I do. This seems like a severe programming error.

By the time I was standing outside my door, I thought I'd gotten my face to behave. Dad stood in the foyer when I entered.

"Why so cheerful?" he asked with a bemused laugh.

Apparently I _hadn't_ gone back to normal. This was going to be a very long year…

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